


Flushed

by echinoderms, rieduentant



Series: HSO 2012 Team Sollux♥Terezi [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Ghosts, Homestuck Shipping Olympics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-28
Updated: 2012-07-28
Packaged: 2017-11-10 21:51:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/471083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/echinoderms/pseuds/echinoderms, https://archiveofourown.org/users/rieduentant/pseuds/rieduentant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Welcome to the ghost realm, thwallicks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flushed

**Author's Note:**

> Written and illustrated for round two of the HSO!
> 
> ADDITIONAL WARNINGS: blood, drugs, swears, slurs, body horror, emetophobia warning

Your name is Sollux Captor and your head hurts. You turn your head and think you see blood; you blink and it is gone. A girl with a weird tail hovers in front of you-- not a tail in a furry way, and not hovering in a socially inept way either. She's actually kind of hot.

Hey what's up, she says with too much volume and too many teeth. You bombard her with a couple of curious vowel sounds and she says you're in a school bathroom (betherm, with her accent) and also that you're dead. Figured that, you tell her in return, and she cackles and offers you a hand. She says that she's Terezi Pyrope and bobs her head up and down when you reply that your name's Sollux Captor. _Thwallicks keptur_ is what she makes of that. You're so cute, thwallicks. Welcome to the ghost realm, thwallicks.

Ghost realm, you repeat. Guothte realm, yesss, you're a ghoooost now. Do you remember hayadied, she wants to know. You remember sitting in stats with your work for the whole week already done, and deciding you had to pee. All you say is, I guess I can piece it together.

You look around for your floor blood and realize: holy shit, this is an ugly bathroom. Possibly the ugliest bathroom ever known. She takes three big nods like they're gulps for air and says that actually this is an improvement. If only, she rues, if only she had kept the pictures of how it used to look.

Why is my floor blood not in this ugly bathroom, you want to ask. Where are the floor bloods of yesteryear?

She sort of flips herself over in midair because right, the tail thing, ghost shit, and looks at you. Are you gonna geddup soon, swalucks.

It appears that your floor blood and the homicidal piss-puddle have skipped away into another realm; possibly one with a less ugly bathroom. You are anxious to get off the floor regardless.

This isn't the bathroom I died in, you bravely emit as you struggle with the nauseous ice feeling of your tail going through the floor. Getting up: apparently your first challenge in the afterlife. Gross, you have a tail now.

Thwollix arya gonna puke? Kinda lookin like thairss puke on the horizon for the new boy. Whensa lass time you eyt befurre you died?

You don't remember. This is unrelated to the whole dying-of-damp-bathroom ordeal. She does a thing with her mouth that makes it a big frustrated maroon blob on her face. You remember your mother, and then don't.

Did we rename to en-pee-see high school, she asks.

  
[ ](http://i.imgur.com/cj8X6.png)   


What?

En pee see. Whassit stan fur.

You tell her it's a video game thing. Non-player character, the kind that say one line and then don't matter. She literally puts her hands on her stomach when she laughs at that.

Swollux that's a pretty styupid shert to wear! She tells you you're too cute for that. Lil drab though. Bit drab. Hm. Hmm.

This isn't going to be a makeover, you say when you manage to push your butt off the gritty linoleum. Her ghost tail is red; yours is black. Presumably because of your pants, not your soul.

Now, hovering with your tail coiled a comfortable six inches from the very same floor which you now know could enact urological revenge at any moment, you notice again that she's pretty attractive. For a chattery ghost with an accent that's out for your name's blood, at least.

Are you supposed to be my guide to purgatory now, you ask. She pauses in absently poking at the corner of her mouth with a pointy gloved finger. You kathleek, she demands.

Catholic? No.

Butcha assume purgatory. Mose people either start screecheen' about Hell or juss look et me like, whose dees bitch. Thass interesting.

So we're not alone in this building, you say hopefully. She laughs: again with the teeth and cartoony gestures. She bats her eyelashes behind gigantic red glasses. All of her is shades of red and sharpened edges.

That's not the kind of phrasing you normally use. Girls don't make you go stupid but they've never made you smarter either.

Unfortunately no, she says with a flick of her tail. Loads of keeds live here, we're all in the syem boooat.

You ask if that makes her the welcome committee. Yes, she says. Precisely, exactly, it does. She is. Welcome to the ghost realm, like she said earlier. You nod.

Thanks. You were a little distracted by floor blood earlier. Excuse the rudeness.

Oh my god, someone shouts behind you. Some of us are trying to take a fucking shit. It may be foreign to those of us who are too busy sniffing the new guy's package to ever fix a sandwich, but you have got to remember that bathrooms are a sacred place for smelly offerings to the sewers.

She greets this stranger not by turning to face him but by making a strangled noise and crossing her eyes in your direction. You give the angry kid a once-over and decide you agree. He’s wearing one of those striped shirts in red and yellow like no one’s seen since the 1990s and looks like he hasn’t cut his hair in just as long.

Or you could interduce yaself, she says and he puffs up his tiny shoulders. He doesn’t say anything else and Terezi introduces him as kerkitt vontoss.

Karkat Vantas, he assures you.

She says cricket. Cricket vontoss. Her grins could eat his entire head.

Cricket, you decide. That sounds pretty alright. Except he looks like a guy who eats crickets and not only because he looks like a frog.

He hovers out from inside his sacred stall and beneath his balled fists and bird arms he’s about as wide as three of your heads. You can make out enough of his torso before it blends into ghost tail to tell that he’s wearing mom jeans. He moves like an old lady at the airport. Like he’s always got a wedgie.

What are you in for, he wants to know. You say you slipped in some piss. He hit his head sowhardatty died, Terezi supplies. He says yeah but what’re you _in_ for. She tells you that that’s all he wants to know about anyone. You don’t know what that means.

She reminds you that yerda one who was goin on about purgatree, and calls you a smartypants. Says that kerkitt wantsa know why you’re a ghost. What bizzeness you got left unfinished.

You think maybe it’d be worth the irony to pray for any answer other than high school. Issokay, she assures you, most people dunno ridaway what they’re doineer either. That’s whatcher here to find out! She grabs you by the ghost hand, which is weirdly still corporeal, and whisks you off on a tour. Karkat wishes you goodbye with a string of incomprehensible insults.

Terezi drags you through several walls, which is nauseating but also a little satisfying, and stops on a dime in what she says is the student council room. There are about four other ghosts in the shittily-carpeted room; they all pause and give Terezi Looks, some frustrated and some like an aroused deer in headlights. Student council, you say. Really. Still.

We keep everyone else in check, one of them buzzes. Help them move on. We're facilitators! Are there a lot of rowdy troublemaking ghosts around here, you ask. They all twitch and falter a little. Well, nooooooo. Not reeeally.

Unless you count Gamzee, another says worriedly. He's so weird. So weird, the others chime in. You can't just sort through the lettuce bin in the lunchroom, they say with wobbly-oval mouths and eyebrows in need of plucking. He creeps everyone out. And it can't be sanitary. Sticking your hands in there, eww! He never leaves that room. What's his plaaaan?? They talk like they're scared his existence will ruin their GPAs. Who even caresabout the lonchroom, Terezi blares with a wave of her hand. Gemzee's one a the only ones who eats inda whole place. Leddim have all the leatoos he wanns, dotcha know how he died. Least he knows how to enjoy himself here, she snaps. Says joy like it's got an e at the end and the e is made of her distaste for these skiing accidents.

The one with the most fashionable haircut makes a warbling noise of acknowledgment. But that's not the point, they say. The others nod, elbows on the table and butts grazing chairs placed too far back. He's been here for so long and you keep talking about how he died but if we can't get him to do anything how are we going to graduate, let alone him!

I can't beleeeve you still coll it graduating, Terezi wails. Thairssa defurrense between routine and denial!

Grow uuuuuuuuuuuup, she warbles as she grabs your hand again and you escape through the ceiling. Alright, Terezi! the one in a navy North Face jacket shouts. Float away with your-- _geek pet_ while we're all busy planning prom!

Geek pet. Who even says geek anymore. Geek?

She just laughs.

So what is the deal with this Gamzee kid, you say. Gaaahmthee, yes, poor Gamzee. Gemzee. I'll show you, she bubbles.

Gamzee is a guy with a shitty hat and shitty glasses and a shitty face in a shitty Pink Floyd shirt. He sits with a third of his ass passing through the cafeteria bench and a watery-teal plastic tray loaded up with enchiladas. You don't need more than a glance to know the tray is warm and the enchiladas bland.

  


[ ](http://i.imgur.com/mAQEC.png)

  


Gamzee licks his spork lovingly. How ees life in de lunch room, gemzee? Terezi says loudly from your safe distance four feet behind him. You swing your tail resolutely behind you.

Instead of turning to see you he bends backwards to look at you upside-down. You imagine a crack; his ass remains ass-deep in the bench. Aw hey my motherfuckin main chica. S'alright. S'cool. Chillin' at school. Yeah. Some sauce rolls its way up his cheek. Please remember to drink sometheeng, gemzee. Yeah, he says. His eyebrows furrow. Mhm. Alright. Apple juice, man. Best thing you ghosts ever did invent.

But--

Poooooooooor gemzee, Terezi says as she buries your heads in a ceiling vent. He daaaied of skervy, she tells you when you're safe in an empty classroom one floor up. Scurvy in the eighties? That wasn't a thing.

Not if you're gemzee, swallix.

All he ever deed wass get high and eat looonchables. Every day.

So what, you say dryly. Did he forget to drink his capri sun one day and keel over.

She literally bounces up and down at that, tail pogo-ing on the floor. Exaaaactly. Thass exACTLY what happened. You take a moment and decide you're not going to dignify that with a response.

Is there somewhere for me to stay, you ask. Dorms or something. Terezi tells you this can be your room if you like. You glance at the greenish carpet and crumbly brick walls and yellow lightbulbs. You had ninth grade English in this room, when you were alive and the room had sparkly bulletin boards and bumpy beige walls. Okay.

Tail coiled tight around itself, you start figuring out how to sit on things. Your torso gets buried halfway through a desk and you stare at her ghost ass as she leaves.

\--

Captor, right? Sollux. New guy. Cricket Vontoss, again with the balled fists; he bounds ominously into your room and reminds you he's Karkat.

What's up.

  
[ ](http://i.imgur.com/obxoX.png)  


He parks his airport butt on one of the desks, careful to keep his tail away from yours. Have you been talking to Terezi more, he demands. Are you guys buddies now.

She sticks her face through your ceiling and wiggles her fingers toodles at least a couple times a day, asks how you're feeling and mirrors your jagged half-smile. She grabs your hand and drags you places. Showed you the football field and snickered at the haphazard endless championship game. Nefur getting outta here, she says with her hands on her hips. Very fond of the ones who aren't getting out: her kingdom of turkeys during rainy season.

Of course, he crackles when you don't answer. She loves new people. Sparkly new toys and burnt-out losers, no time for anyone else!

What's your deal, you ask. Why are you here.

I'm aware you meant why am I in your room, he says like a rabid pigeon, but thank you quite fucking dearly for the segue.

He tells you, in choking petulant detail, of how he and Terezi had Chem together in 1997. She was exactly the same back then, plus she banged pretty much everyone. You're not surprised. He won't tell you how he died but it was in fall; she died that same year in winter. She doesn't talk to him. He leans back with his arms crossed like that explains anything.

So you're so pissed about her not fucking you that you're stuck here, you drawl, and his narrow shoulders tighten even more. That's oversimplifying it, he barks. Purposely inflammatory. You presumptuous fuck. It's complicated, so complicated. Ugh. Ugh! But yeah. Basically. He guesses.

Your unfinished business, you say with a slow blink, is that you've never had a girlfriend. Tell me something, cricket.

His tail flicks. Too many animals. Him and Gamzee are the only people you've seen eat. You've been dead three weeks and don't remember how to be hungry. Do you eat your ghost feelings, Cricket?

What else is there to do??

Get over a crush, learn how nutrition works, quit pissing yourself over four-year plans. You feel as trapped in high school as anyone else here does: as usual, you know the answer and no one else is even trying. Seems pretty fucking simple.

He rumbles: if it's so thimple to you then have fun on the other side, fuckwad.

Swallicks! Come with me, buddy-boy, Terezi chirps, her hand on your wrist again with its ghost skin texture despite visibly leather gloves. Karkat makes a garbage disposal sound and threatens to puke. He can do that. He has that power, fucker.

Howsa bout you puke on yer diiick, kerkit. You smile a little and this time you don't get nauseous when she skids to a halt and flings you through a table into a chair.

  
[ ](http://i.imgur.com/FDOos.jpg)  


Candles and ice cream? She wiggles her hips a bit on her descent. Staff lounge, she supplies. Where she has meetings, and also parties. Which is this, you wonder. She claims to not know.

She tells you you're doing very well. She deedn't expect it, t'be honest. You seem like a lingerer. But you're efficient, and smart. Perceptive. You'll be gone in no time. Eat up, swallix. I dunno if they have ice cream there.

It's surprisingly salty.

It's kerkit's. He prubably craaaied in it. She digs in. This is the first you've seen her eat. It's nice.

Terezi swipes pink goo off the side of her carton. You wonder if ghost sex is a thing.

En pee see, thas what you call yourself. She says it quieter than anything else. Lone wolf bollshet. Gotta cut that out. You know that already, right? She licks her finger. You think about paradoxes.

Arya excited to go, she says casually. You honestly can't tell if it's fake. Never been that great at telling, when you're involved. You feel nauseous with a peanut butter cup melting under your tongue.

If you kissed her would the ghost realm pull a Lifetime movie and punt you both into the after-afterlife?

Bleh!! she says. I fuckin' hope not.

Do you plan on ever moving on?

As much as you hate video game metaphors that don't also clothe you: Curiosity's the only thing that makes anyone finish a game, that and ambition. You don't actually have much of either.

Ghost life is hilarious, she adds.

You kiss her. No one goes to heaven. She says this makes you an official member of the welcome committee. Okay, you say.

Cool.


End file.
